


It Says HORSEmaster Right in the Title

by RedEris



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-01
Updated: 2018-05-01
Packaged: 2019-04-30 20:39:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14505033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedEris/pseuds/RedEris
Summary: Horsemaster Dennet has seen some shit.





	It Says HORSEmaster Right in the Title

Dennet had been Horsemaster to the lords of Redcliffe for nearly two decades, and in that time, he had seen things a farrier’s son never dreamt of seeing. He’d taken horses from the hands of King Cailan and his father Maric before him, and even once Queen Rowan before she passed. He’d given riding lessons to the current king when he was nothing but a rambunctious fosterling, and swatted his hand to make him mind what he was doing. He’d been there for the arrival of Isolde and her Orlesian maids and their strange ways, for the comings and goings of the Arl’s brother, for the too-close conversations between the two in the stables when Teagan left again. 

He’d survived the possession of her son Connor, and fought the empty shells of people he’d once drunk ale with. He’d seen the Warden, and Alistair all grown up now, and he’d stayed to put things right in the wake of all that. After that, he decided that he’d seen far more than enough, and taken his well-earned retirement. All he’d planned was to watch his daughter Seanna grow tall and strong and bold, and admire Elaina as she bent to weed the turnips. Tweak a few of the best bloodlines, nurture a few of the best sires. Sit on the stoop and blow smoke rings and admire the sunset.

Then had come the mages, and then the rifts, bandits, templars, demons for pity’s sake, and, last, the Inquisition.

Horsemaster Dennet had seen a lot, yes, and he’d thought himself pretty hard to rattle.

But some things are just ridiculous.

Start with the damnable Red Hart. Oh, it was a handsome beast, certainly. And, as Skyhold was well above the tree line, it took one of the stable boys two afternoons a week to supply it with the required bark and twigs. Not to mention the appalling noise it made if you disturbed it. He’d gone to check on a new foal in the night once, and woken it, and the resultant racket had woken everyone and everything in the vicinity.

Of the Battle Nug, the less smelled the better. Mushrooms. To think, he had once enjoyed the smell of mushrooms.

The Bog Unicorn required neither food nor water and was flawlessly obedient, all of which is grand. But it had to be kept completely separate from all of the other mounts, who would become skittish at a mere whiff of the beast. And it had to be fumigated twice daily with burning pipeweed, pennyroyal, and sage to keep it--well, fresh was hardly the right word.

The day they brought the first dracolisk, Horsemaster Dennet decided without the least doubt that he had seen too much, and went to the tavern to get very very drunk and do his best to unsee some of it.


End file.
